The Highwayman
by fallingstar1011
Summary: He saw Kitty looking at the book and she had tears rolling down her face. Was she crying over him? Or was it the poem? Kyro Poemfic


**I do not own the X-Men or the poem, the highwayman, by Alfred Noyes.**

_The wind was torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,_

_The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,_

_The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,_

_And the highwayman came riding–_

_Riding–riding_

_The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door._

"Whatchya readin, Kitten?" The institutes 'bad boy', John asked looking over the shoulder of the young girl to try and get a peek at the book she was holding in her small hands.

"The highwayman, by Alfred Noyes." she responded bluntly trying to return to her book.

_He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;_

_He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin._

_They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!_

_And he rode with a jeweled twinkle–_

_His rapier hilt a-twinkle–_

_His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky._

"The highwayman? That's a stupid name for a book." John said wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"It's not a book, John. It's a poem." Kitty replied in a matter-of-fact like tone.

_Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,_

_He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,_

_He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there_

_But the landlord's black-eyed daughter–_

_Bess, the landlord's daughter–_

_Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair._

"So," John waited a moment to finish his question, "What is it about? Some random drunk hobo on the highway getting run over by a car?" he chuckled.

Kitty turned her gaze to him, so her dark brown eyes met his hazel colored ones. "No, it's about a robber and a landlord's daughter!" she spat at him.

_Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked_

_Where Tim, the ostler listened–his face was white and peaked–_

_His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,_

_But he loved the landlord's daughter–_

_The landlord's black-eyed daughter,_

_Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:_

"Well, what's the genre? Rape and Murder?" this made John laugh even more, knowing that he was really getting onto Kitty's nerves.

"It's about the highwayman and landlord's daughter's forbidden love, so it's a romance. Now go away John, I want to read!" she yelled.

"_One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,_

_But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light._

_Yet if the press me sharply, and harry me through the day,_

_Then look for me by moonlight,_

_Watch for me by moonlight,_

_I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."_

"Man, what is it with all these forbidden romances with the innocent girl and the mysterious bad ass? It's so annoying!" John complained.

Kitty ignored him and continued to read the poem.

_He stood upright in the stirrups: je scarce could reach her hand,_

_But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand_

_As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,_

_Then he kissed it's waves in the moonlight_

_(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),_

_And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west._

Kitty's eyes went wide as John sat down next to her and leaned into her body so he to could read the poem in her hand. She felt his breath on her collar bone, which caused the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

_He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon._

_And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,_

_When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,_

_The redcoat troop came marching–_

_Marching–marching_

_King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door_.

Kitty slightly shifted her body, with the weight of John on her right side. "Here," Kitty offered, placing the book between them both so John wouldn't have to lean on her to see it.

"No, it's alright, Kitty-kat. I'm perfectly comfortable the way I am." John smirked at her and rested his head on her shoulder causing her cheeks to turn scarlet.

_The said no word to the landlord; the drank his ale instead,_

_But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot oh her narrow bed._

_Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;_

_There was Death at every window,_

_And Hell at one dark window,_

_For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride._

Kitty's heat beat raced every time she would hear John take a deep breath and put more weight on her shoulder.

The one thing she was shocked about was that she didn't mind, John being so close to her. In fact she kind of liked it. He felt warm and it was kind of pleasant.

_They had bound her up at attention, with many sniggering jest!_

_They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!_

"_Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,_

"_Look for me by moonlight,_

_Watch for me by moonlight,_

_I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."_

John could smell the scent of Kitty's strawberry scented shampoo and her lotion with the smell of almond extract. He took his eyes away from the book and looked into her big, dark, brown eyes as they followed each word across the page. Why hadn't he noticed how beautiful she was before?

_She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!_

_She withered her hands till her fingers were wet with swear or blood!_

_They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,_

_Till, on the stroke of midnight,_

_Cold on the stroke of midnight,_

_The tip of her finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!_

John sat up, taking his head of her shoulder and scooted away from Kitty so they were no longer touching each other, and he could have sworn he saw something in her eyes, was it sorrow?

_The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;_

_Up, she stood at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast._

_She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,_

_For the road lay bare in the moonlight,_

_Blank and bare in the moonlight,_

_And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain._

'Why did John move? Did I do something wrong?' Kitty thought. She was actually happy when John was leaning against her, but when he sat up she became disappointed

'Is Kitty sad because I moved? Did she like it when my head was leaning on her shoulder?' John thought to himself as he studied the girl who sat beside him with the book still in her hands.

_Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;_

_Tlot tlot,tlot tlot, in the distance! Where they deaf that they did not hear?_

_Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,_

_The highwayman came ridding–_

_Ridding–ridding–_

_the redcoats looked to their priming! She stood straight and still._

Kitty heard the sound of a, 'click' and craned her neck to the side to see what exactly the pyromaniac was doing. John had flipped open his precious zippo, and lighted it. The flame danced on top of the lighter.

John put his palm over the small flame and closed his hand in around it. When he took his fist away from the lighter, the flame was gone; but when he opened his hand, he revealed a small little flame dancing in the palm of his hand, licking his finger. This made John smile.

_Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot, tlot, in the echoing night!_

_Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!_

_Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,_

_Then her finger moved in the moonlight–_

_Her musket shattered the moonlight–_

_Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him–with her death._

John heard a sniffing sound and turned his attention away from the small flame. He saw Kitty looking at the book and she had tears rolling down her face. Was she crying over him? Or was it the poem?

The blonde mutant closed his palm over the fire to extinguish it. Once again, he leaned over Kitty to glance at the book and read what was happening that made Kitty cry.

_He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood_

_Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own blood!_

_Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear_

_How Bess, the landlord's daughter,_

_The landlord's black-eyed daughter,_

_Had watched for he love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there._

"Kitten, why do you read this if it makes you cry?" John asked.

Kitty looked at him confused, was the pyro actually worrying about her, the institute's very own 'bad boy', John Allerdyce caring about her, Kitty Pryde? Was it the rise of the Apocalypse?

_Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,_

_With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!_

_Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat_

_When they shot him down in the highway,_

_Down like a dog in the highway._

_And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat._

Kitty wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffed once more before answering John's question. "Because it's just so true." she said and smiled her signature smile, that showed John her pearly white teeth.

_And still on the winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,_

_When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,_

_When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,_

_The highwayman comes riding–_

_Riding–riding–_

_The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door._

'True?' he thought, had Kitty tried to imply something between the two? Was it possible that she was saying that he was the highwayman and she, the landlord's daughter, Bess? Was he starting to have feelings for the one girl who couldn't be touchced?

_Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,_

_He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barged,_

_He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there_

_But the landlord's black-eyed daughter–_

_Bess the landlord's daughter–_

_Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair_.

Kitty closed the book and smiled down onto it. She took a breath and stood up, and as she walked by John she bent over and whispered, "I'll see you later, my highwayman." and continued to walk away, leaving John shocked, confused, and blushing.


End file.
